A cold northwesterly breeze
Whips the nearly naked trees
A few pecans still tip the top
Unreachable by squirrels
Even if they hop
In the American wilds there are kings and
queens of the timberlands,
their pups born into a fraternity of royalty.
Crystal blue eyes shudder the dawn in
thick forests and open tundra.
Native American spirits in the elements
in all seasons,
in harmony with the wolves’ songs,
gently flowing eternally in the streams.
Oh, to run, run with their brethren of the
freedoms,
hunters and their prey churning up the
snow.
In the wilderness twilight they howl in
unison,
a woodland concert of the untamed neath
the ochre copper moon,
their breath exhaled in a frosty mist.
Whatever you do, please don’t kill my
wolves,
they are the sons and daughters of
nature’s magnificence.
So many have been felled and my heart
can’t bear hearing the roaring of the
rifles anymore,
Oh God, no!
Please don’t pierce their bodies,
their souls,
please, please don’t kill my wolves!
dogs bolt outdoor
squirrel scrambles for it's life
jumping fences
along busy road
young deer chime in with traffic
startled by car horns
Story of gentle metazoans in yellow
Furry and soft, above trees and below
Frolicking after four
Canoodling on flour
Shadows of naughty paws on meadow.
Fredo got me and the gang
A primeval chord inside me rang
We went together on patrol
On the territory rebels had stole.
We saw him then, once one of ours
He tried to hide; you could see him cower
We kicked him, pounded till he was dead
It was a hoot, the blood we shed.
Then I noticed a creature further back
She was a human who I don't attack.
She shed tears and wrote in a pad
She had just learned that we could be bad.
She had bottle-fed me when I was a child
But a chimp is always part of the wild.
Can't blame us for ganging up on a foe
Its in the DNA, its how the winds blow.
My remote relative looked at his socials online
He noticed a trend to call Mary a swine.
He unfriended her, Mary gave a sob
Something primeval in the call of the mob.
Between Chimp and Man about 8 million years
We're still too close, it appears.
Some say evolution is not correct.
But why such an irrational intellect?
storms about to brew
frantic squirrels create havoc
leaving nuts behind
collectors of nuts
scavengers by nature
endless shell casings......
eyes gaze from cornfield
then rush of brown fur across road
fawns' slow reaction
fresh cut grass for lunch
free roam of yard for awhile
cozy home under shed
I looked at my toes in the bathtub
Imagined them curling around a tree
Gave myself a shoulder rub
Thought about primal ancestry.
The dentist removed my canine teeth
They reminded me of the wolf beneath
And when insurance took me off his list
I growled like a cheetah being dissed.
Was I just a wild beast?
Like a chimp finding a feast?
Like a bird singing with a mating goal?
Like an elk at a water hole?
I ran into a hostile guy
Said I had told a lie
Said I was a snake, a skunk
So I got into a funk.
Didn't I have a spirit higher?
Wasn't there creative fire?
Couldn't I get respect
for my curious seeking intellect?
Tell me someone tell me please
that I'm not a monkey in the trees.
Though there's a white oak in my yard
Its fun to climb, and not so hard.
So I'll embrace my inner critter
I won't be angry, won't be bitter
I'll transcend it when I can
And I hope you understand:
why when I try to sing a tune
I sound like a wolf howling at the moon.
rabbits hide in fluff
mother cuddles her young close
then empty nesting
The Mandrill
I feel sadness for the mandrill held captive
Behind the cage bars. His listless demeanour
Is unnatural when compared to his free aboriginal cousin
In the African jungle an ocean away.
Despite his gaiety of colour display
And distant stare through amber, hollow eyes,
With laboured mouth ajar for teeth to bare,
He expresses neither aggression nor submission
Of territory dominance or subordination.
There is no bobbing of the head or crowing,
Nor slapping of the ground or rump showing.
These primates are the world’s largest monkeys,
Safe from leopards preying and human hunting;
They, his keepers say, are lucky to be in a cage,
Enjoying life’s comforts to a ripe old age.
all i see is tail
closer i get to window
we have a face off
squirrels have no nerve
their daring little creatures
who fear nothing
A worm's eye view never seems to be a problem
for those who prefer not to be perceived.
I inch along the ground,
cowering in the light
and moistening myself in hallowed raindrops.
The sky clouding over is my perfect afternoon.
Gentle breezes and summer downpours
are the creatures' form of relaxation,
while children cover themselves in the safety of concrete barriers,
These perfectly straight lawns
bordered by paved expanses
are insurmountable obstacles; guaranteed death.
After the rain,
childlike giants scoop us up
and force us to succumb to concentrated beams of sunlight
filtered through magnifying glasses.
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